Curse of Reason
by mia.c.rose
Summary: Edward is the cynical and battered CEO of Cullene, the top grossing Technology corporation in America. Every aspect of his life under control. Until her. Domward, Subella, Olderward. Adult themes. Short Chapters (Drabble)


What are you talking about, Leah?" I spoke harshly, unusual for me, but this was a turn of events I had not expected.

"I can't do this anymore, Sir. I…" Leah wouldn't look at me. That was when I knew that this, was over, really over. I couldn't have a submissive that didn't respect me enough to maintain eye contact as we spoke.

"Spit it out."

Leah stiffened at the bitterness in my tone. She was used to my domineering while still polite attitude. This was a new side of me for her. Hell, this was a new side of me for me! But she was upsetting me. First she was breaking things off with so little warning, leaving me no time to prepare myself, and now she was drawing this out, acting as if I cared more than being irritated at her poor decorum. I took a few deep breaths. I was in control. I had to be in control.

"I apologize. But please, Leah, explain why you are… inconveniencing me this way?"

"Sir, I… I didn't mean for this to be so abrupt. It was a shock to me, a welcome shock, but it didn't leave me much time to warn you. I respect you greatly, and I hate not to end things better, but I just can't be with you any longer while Sam is in my reach." Her eyes had glazed over. I was glad I couldn't see into her head, I would have been sickened. She was one of those flowery types, I had always known. But this? Love at first sight? She would only feel foolish in the end. But that wasn't my problem. Now it was time for me to cut ties, move on. Find someone new, someone less fickle, to satisfy my needs.

"I suppose you would like to be let out of your contract?" I asked her this as I began walking toward my desk, across the room. We were in my home office, well, one of my home offices. Living in a house of the size I did, and being the CEO of the huge company that I was, it was just practical to make use of what I had. Cullene, my immensely successful technology company padded my bank account to the point that it was almost laughable. I could, were I so inclined, throw fistfuls of cash out my window for fun, and it would probably take years before even a noticeable dent formed in my savings. Of course, I would never do such a thing. I was scrupulous with every cent of my hard earned living, and I invested well, increasing my bank by tenfold each day.

I was the wolf that poor and middle class whiners complained about. 'What does he need with all of that money?' 'He should be paying higher taxes, he should be donating it to those in need!' I didn't need nor did I want anyone telling me what to do with my large sums. Obviously they had no idea what they were doing with their measly paychecks, or they wouldn't be complaining and would be decked out in a beautiful and unnecessarily huge home like I was. Every single American has a chance to achieve what i have achieved. It was not my fault that now that they were trapped in their dead-end marriages and careers, after squandering their opportunity years getting drunk, or chasing love, or getting bachelor degrees in fine arts, whatever the fuck that even is, they decided that maybe they should've done things differently. Of course they should of.

I spent my college years designing phones and computers, and codes to run on my Cullene products, and search engines and other things that everyone in the world knows is making the big bucks. Now, at 30, I was sitting pretty, making more money each day. I didn't waste my life trying to find a nice girl to give my heart to, because I was smart enough to know that every instance of love that has ever existed was lust, that fades, and that the best relationships one can form are those of convenience, easily cut, easily destroyed. They were stupid, and now they are poor. They want someone to blame, and I don't mind, not really. I can't even hear their pitiful whining from my beautiful Lincoln Park estate, six bedrooms, ten bathrooms, three offices, a kitchen, and kitchenette, a wine cellar, a gym, a huge dining room, my amazing basement… need I go on?

I am right outside of Chicago, where I run Cullene from. I hardly enter most of the rooms in my house more than once every two months, the bedroom and basement excluded, of course. Sure its a big place for me to live alone, but I refuse to hire help. I don't need it, and besides, I want the freedom to conduct the lifestyle i have chosen for myself freely, without those who are judgemental sticking up their noses at the 'unsavoriness'. My sex life was my sex life, after all.

"Yes," Leah looked relieved I wasn't fighting to keep her. Where she got that elevated sense of self i had no clue, but i was glad to be rid of it. "Thank you so much, Edward."

My head shot up, no one called me that, especially not someone with her relationship to me. I would not permit a submissive to name me, no matter how little more time she would still be mine.

"Do NOT call me that ever again. I am Sir to you, or Master, and very shortly, I will be nothing at all!"

She looked genuinely afraid. I could not care less.

"Yes, Sir, I… I am so sorry Sir…" She cowered, as if I might strike her. Whatever gave her the idea that I would do such a thing I had no clue, in the two years we had been in contract with each other I had never laid a hand on her outside of my basement. Whatever, she could be afraid if she wanted. I wouldn't dwell on it.

"The gag order still will stand, Leah. YOu may not speak of what has gone on between us to anyone, not to Mommy, not to Daddy, not to your new Sammy who you love at one glance…"

At this Leah gasped.

"Sir! Please! I can't keep anything from him, a new relationship can not be forged on lies!"

I scoffed.

"You knew what you were getting into when you got into it. Now, if you say a word, and I WILL know, expect my lawyers to sue you out of everything you have ever touched or dreamed of touching. You know who I am. I am Edward Cullen, I am the richest man in America, and you will not stand a chance against me. Do I make myself clear?"

Leah was shuddering, trying to hold back tears. And failing. She was a submissive though, what did I expect?

"Leah, you can go now. I expect you know your way out?"

"Yes, Sir."

She spoke my title with a shaking voice, but spiteful nonetheless. I couldn't be bothered though.

Leah had left me in a tight spot. I had… desires, needs, that could not go unfulfilled for long. Proper procedure for her would have been to warn be a month before she planned to back out of her contract, so that I could search for a new sub and begin with her as soon as my time with Leah ended. She however, apparently was in love now, and felt that being with me was cheating. I was, of course, not at all attached, to Leah. She was my plaything, my underling. But now I had no one, and I had no one idea how I would accumulate a new submissive before I began tearing my hair out.

I had an unorthodox way of selecting my sub, I didn't go to BDSM clubs like some common man. That would be an invitation for a photographer to get his big break and see me escorting someone out of a sex club. It would be the end of me.

No, my sex life, was like everything else in my life, purely business.

I came across Leah in a coffee shop. Emily, my sub at the time, had just given me her one month a week earlier, and I was scouting for a new toy. I am an attractive man, I am well aware of it. I have a strong jaw, clear skin, shining hair, deep eyes… clothes look good on me, and confidence is oozing out of my every mannerism. Needless to say, I attract the female eye.

I have no need for women who stroll up to me and offer their numbers. I am in control of every aspect of my life, and I will be the one to make the first move.

Leah had stood behind the counter at the coffee shop in the lobby of a hotel I was meeting an associate for lunch at. She could barely speak, such was my effect on her. I knew she was submissive, I found her attractive, and once I invited her to dinner and cut straight to the point, the rest was history.

It is very unlikely that I would be rejected.

My invitation is an honor.

As I grow more and more wealthy however, I flit higher and higher into the publics attention. It is harder to find myself a suitable submissive, with most women I see interested only in my name and not comprehending of my offer.

In the last five years, I would like to say that I have become a household name. I am like the President, people know my name, my face, and a bit of my backstory. They know I attended Northwestern. They know I have a brother, Jasper, though I doubt they know that he and I no longer speak. I suppose he must reap some benefits from my name, he shares it of course. As does that wife of his, Alice. Well, while they are off having their 'love that you only find once in a lifetime, if you are even that lucky', as Jasper screamed at me the last time we spoke, doing their pitiful little jobs teaching high school students, I do hope Jasper gets some kind of good out of the Cullen name. Though I know he has made a mistake marrying that Alice woman, and will soon see the error in his ways (he married her without a prenup, five days after meeting her, but thats _love _at first sight for you) when she runs off with the small fortune that he inherited from our late father. Until then, I will respect his blind decision not to speak with me, and welcome him with open arms and a forgiving heart when she divorces him. I don't claim to know everything, far from it, but this I know: a love like Jasper and Alice claim to share does not a will never exist.

I sigh, and straighten the lapels of my obscenely expensive suit. It is difficult, to be the most level headed of those who surround you, to be the only one who sees the world at all clearly. But if that is my curse than so be it.


End file.
